


Ride of the Dirt Bros

by tarnishedpeonies



Series: Will Write Trailbreaker For Free [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Best Friends, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rutting, Sex Outdoors, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, spike/valve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28533321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarnishedpeonies/pseuds/tarnishedpeonies
Summary: Trailbreaker is desperate for a solution when self-servicing doesn't work, but he's too polite to ask. Fortunately, he's got a very good friend in Hound.
Relationships: Hound/Trailbreaker
Series: Will Write Trailbreaker For Free [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164989
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Ride of the Dirt Bros

Trailbreaker sat at the canyon’s edge, careful this time not to put his legs off the ledge as he looked out over the beauty below. The lush green forest tops, the sounds of the rushing river. The screaming cry of a bird overhead, a hawk probably. If he held still enough, the occasional deer would walk by. He watched one now, a full crown of antlers shifting and moving through the air while the deer grazed. It was majestic, and it made the mech smile to watch, until the deer stood straight and headed towards a cluster of trees; he knew the behavior from reading. Rubs and scrapes. The deer were in season.

Unbidden, Trailbreaker shifted at a ping from his array. They weren’t the only ones, unfortunately. It’d been most of the lunar cycle, starting as something benign and annoying, with dreams he’d enjoyed but felt bad for enjoying on waking. He was sure it’d go away; he’d experienced this before, though it’d been a while. It’d gone away without much sparkache then, he was sure of it!

Or maybe he’d forgotten. A more insistent **ping** came from his array, and he shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of panels threatening to open if he didn’t stop them. Ex-venting slowly, he let the paneling aside, mostly-pressurized spike twitching briefly in a bid for attention. This was how Trailbreaker had been taking care of the problem. Insistently. Frequently. And now, again, digits curling around the pressurizing segments. He stroked, and tried not to _think_ ; just enjoy the charge he worked up - and would eventually work off - by self-servicing.

It was less stressful out here. He’d almost been caught on the Ark, the solar cycle before he left, crammed in some dead-end hallway trying to rub one out, so sure the entire ship could sense his overheated frame like a beacon. Ultimately he’d notified the appropriate chain of command and left with minimal explanation to take care of his problem.

His hips twitched, spike thrusting into his tightening grip, both a relief and a need for more. The mech was sure his spike should have been desensitized by now, but it wasn’t; the charge had already doubled, and doubled again with a stroke, and only his self-control kept him from overloading immediately; then his processor cycled forward one of those earlier dreams. Warm paneling pinned beneath him, hands wandering, slick folds of a valve giving way to his - “Ah!”

The sensation startled him, thick transfluid squeezing out with the last few strokes as the pressure in his spike eased down. Looking down at his hand, partially painted in fresh fluids, Trailbreaker gave a soft curse. Out here, it’d been easy to lie to himself, but it wasn’t getting any better. He couldn’t stay away from the Ark forever, someone would notice he was missing, or worse some mission would come up he’d be vital for and he’d be the reason mechs ended up in Ratchet’s medbay. It wasn’t something he could have on his conscience.

What could he _do_?

“Hey, so this is where you’re hiding!” Hound’s cheerful rumble hit his audials ticks before the shame and the fear of being caught hit his spark. His gears ground briefly when his panel closed quickly, and he smashed his hand in the grass beside him, wiping it clean as he looked up at the approaching mech with a lopsided smile. “You weren’t answering your comms I thought maybe a bear got you.”

Trailbreaker laughed, flush with relief. “That would have to be some bear, Hound,” he stood slowly, unsteady on his pedes with the pinging in his array still present, but distant. “Sorry, I just - needed some time, y’know. I’ll be headed back soon, you don’t have to worry about me.” Hound’s faceplates shifted. That was certainly a look from his old friend! “What?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Breaker. You can’t actually think I don’t know what’s going on here.” The green paneled mech, in every way familiar and less familiar than Trailbreaker would like, brought his hands to his hips and placed them there firmly. “And don’t think for a tick that you’ll make me leave. We’re friends,” Hound said as he offered one hand, though it stood a firm reminder instead of a gentle one. “I can help.”

His shoulders dropped, and Breaker shook his helmet. “I can’t ask you to do that Hound, this is - well it’s awful,” he stated with a fist clench, unable to hide an edge of exasperation. “I’m at my wit’s end here, but this isn’t something anyone has to help me with. I don’t even know if that’d work,” so why try if there was no guarantee of success? “Helping me. I mean.” Clearly he didn’t mean interfacing with Hound to sate his urges, hah, no. Though now the thought was there ( _again_ ) and he felt his paneling warming ( _again_ ), and Hound is so close Trailbreaker swears he can smell the other off-roader’s lubricants. That was stupid. “You should go, I’ll be all right.”

Hound came closer, and Trailbreaker took a step back; only one, before remembering the canyon was behind him. Each step Hound took brought his temperature up, and if he hadn’t just overloaded there would be more pain, or an audible clang. Or both. Hound’s hands found his shoulders and pulled him closer. A part of him thought to say ‘no’ and send Hound on his way, but he wouldn’t mean it. Hound must have known that, and had it confirmed when their lips barely grazed and his panel slamming open sounded between them.

Laughter tickled Trailbreaker’s lips, not for long as he shifted, gripping the back of Hound’s thighs to pull both legs up, lowering Hound and bringing them both closer to the Earth. They were too large not to startle the local wildlife into evacuating, but Breaker cared less the more Hound looked at him like - that. Like…he wanted this too? Hound’s smile burgeoned on a grin as his legs spread wide, array panels sliding back without urgency. The look on Breaker’s own faceplates must have betrayed him, because Hound laughed again. “I followed you by tracking the scent of your transfluid; you can’t expect me not to be a little warmed already.”

_A little warmed_ , sure. It turned out Breaker had not been imagining his friend’s scent earlier, and that made everything simultaneously easy and more confusing. Then easier, and clearer again as the head of his spike nudged against Hound’s inner thigh, pressing down between hot, slick valve lips that didn’t need Trailbreaker to move slow. He managed, anyways, earning an ex-vent from Hound as he pressed in.

“You’re shaking, Breaker,” Hound said. “Just frag me. I can take it. I _want_ it,” he promised. “Don’t be gentle.”

It might have been the only thing that kept Trailbreaker from pulling back and running away. Hound was inviting him, and wanted this. Biting his lower lip plate, his hips hitched back, angling until the tip pressed into the opening, between velvety folds that took his spike - Primus, perfectly. It felt incredible to take it slow, enjoying the way Hound felt around him, while everything else but Hound melted away and only sensation remained. When he hit Hound’s ceiling node, the hitch in his partner’s intake brought Trailbreaker back to attention.

“Keep going,” Hound’s thighs closed around Trailbreaker’s hips, shifting until they had a good grip, pulling him back into Hound’s ceiling node with a flex. “Oh frag.”

Placing his hands on either side of Hound, Trailbreaker steadied himself on his knees and kept his spike buried deep while he adjusted. The defensive specialist couldn’t help smiling even as his faceplates grew hot, finding his center balance, hips pulling back to ram forward again. His own intake hitched, and a rhythm started. Slowly first, while Trailbreaker made sure this wasn’t a dream - or worse, that it wasn’t a mistake. When the only sounds to his audials was pleasant, agreeable moaning his pace steadied. Hound panted beneath him, encouraging Breaker with a squeeze of his thighs and further sounds from his vocalizer. Even if it wasn’t going to sate either of them, he wanted to ride Hound like this for awhile. There was something soothing in the pace, and the way Hound’s calipers cycled down as the charge built between them. It was better than the dreams.

It couldn’t last though. Trailbreaker couldn’t last, and the pace kicked up. He thrust hard, deep, and fast as their charge crackled, one hand moving to squeeze Hound’s hip and keep him in place. The head of his spike honed in on that node every time, insistent, needing to hear Hound’s cries in his audials as much as he needed to fill Hound’s valve with his transfluid. He couldn’t _help_ it and -

Hound’s hand found the back of his helmet. Optics Trailbreaker didn’t realize were offline shuddered back on, finding himself staring deep into Hound’s as he drove into the mech hard. His lips moved, only a shuddering moan released as Hound guided their forehelms together, pressing close while his intake gasped. “Keep going, don’t stop, don’t,” Hound begged.

Trailbreaker couldn’t stop if he wanted to, couldn’t stop if he tried. Lips smashed together, desperate kisses he initiated - maybe, probably, as the hand on Hound’s hip pulled the green-plated mech onto his spike, driving as much force as possible into every thrust; all while looking into those bright blue optics. The charge started tingling beneath his plating, ramping up intensely as he drove home again!

Everything became sound in his audials and pleasure around - in - on his spike, throughout his entire frame as he shuddered and folded over Hound, not able to grip more than his hip but keeping him close as he overloaded. Well. Trailbreaker liked to think they both did. He liked to think that Hound might have overloaded first; all he knew was that when his optics on-lined again, Hound was grinning and ex-venting hard.

“Now that I know what you’re capable of I’m not going to let you hide that kind of horsepower from me again,” he teased, forehelms shifting slightly as Hound nuzzled against Breaker, engine settled into a steady purr. “I can’t believe we’ve been fighting side by side this long and I never knew.”

Knew? “What?”

“That you could frag the paint job off a mech without a second thought,” Hound winked, then laughed when Trailbreaker made an embarrassed noise that expressed exactly what he thought of that. “Kidding! Probably. Perceptor would say I’m exaggerating anyways,” yeah that was true, though Perceptor’s thoughts on anything were rarely so condensed. Hound interrupted his line of thought, lips pressing against Trailbreaker’s again, warm ex-vent dancing over his lips when Hound pulled back slightly. “You know you’re still pressurized right?”

The fact startled Trailbreaker, and his optics shuttered as he tried to pull away, before being pulled back by Hound. “Sorry,” he stammered, even as his hips involuntarily jumped forward when Hound cycled down some calipers - on purpose! Or so Trailbreaker believed. He was starting to get the idea that Hound didn’t want him to pull out, and though it didn’t feel natural to smile back in this situation - he could crush Hound in another kiss. The pressure in his array had flagged minimally, and that kiss was all it took to bring it all back.

This time Hound was forced to let go of Trailbreaker’s helmet, as he pulled away and out of Hound’s valve - a minor sound of distress sounding off from both their engines as he guided his friend into a different position, turning Hound over. He’d seen this one more than once in the wilds surrounding them and Breaker was curious. That was echoed by the sound Hound made, the _ah_ curling with wonder. The grin Hound delivered over a shoulder didn’t help Trailbreaker’s need either, and his hips pressed forward, spike sinking home.

Hound’s engine growled to life beneath him, and Trailbreaker squirmed until his hands firmly grasped Hound’s shoulders, spinal struts arching back and then curling forward with his first thrust. That didn’t quiet either of them, but words had stopped passing between them, helping Trailbreaker to find the right pace. He was less embarrassed this time - and, it felt good, _so_ good to sink into Hound with steady thrusts.

His pace lasted all of a few kliks before Trailbreaker leaned forward, pulling Hound’s shoulders back with a startled cry from the other mech followed by a deep moan. Everything shifted. Hound went from his hands to his elbows, Trailbreaker didn’t remember how but he’d shifted onto his pedes, driving down into Hound’s valve with all the force he could muster. His own needs were flagging yet still strong, and the sound of Hound’s cries pressed him on.

Primus. He wanted to do _this_ forever too. This position had his spike hitting different nodes in Hound’s valve, the charge growing between them as his heavy thrusts started to push Hound into the dirt. It didn’t keep Hound from praising Breaker, or keep him from calling out when he finally overloaded. This time he was sure - this time part of Trailbreaker’s overload came from knowing he’d fragged his friend into a valve-clenching overload that pulled him over! Literally.

When they both came to, Trailbreaker scrambled to push himself off Hound and landed without grace next to the green mech, staring over at him in wonder and awe. It was still there; but the urges, the pinging of his array was softer now. Manageable. Hound rolled over and smiled at Breaker, reaching out to grip one of Breaker’s hands and shake his helmet. “That should be illegal.”

“Huh?”

Hound laughed, the grip on Breaker’s hand squeezing briefly, before the green mech pressed a thumb into his palm and massaged the small plate gently. “How incredible that felt,” Hound explained before shifting closer, grinning as he cupped the side of Breaker’s helm in the other hand. Trailbreaker’s face warmed as Hound watched him, that impossible smile gracing his faceplates. “Breaker,” he called the black mech’s attention back to his optics. “If it happens again, come find _me_ , okay? Clearly cloistering yourself in the wild didn’t help anything, but I can.”

His processor was finally able to accept other input again, even slowly, and Trailbreaker found himself nodding. “Yeah. Got it,” he promised, managing an unsure smile of his own. “Hey, Hound?” He waited for those blue optics to lock with his before continuing, “Do you think we could, you know, just - stay out here for a little while?” Despite the offer for help, Trailbreaker was still too embarrassed to outright admit that he wasn’t confident enough to head back now; not until the pinging had settled entirely.

Shifting closer, hands still locked, Breaker didn’t need to hear yes before following suit, until both mechs had carefully managed to press close, tangling their legs together to enjoy each other’s touch and presence. Trailbreaker saw a smudge of grass and dirt still on his friend’s faceplate, and reached up to brush it away. There was a too-amused look on Hound’s face. “I think it’s for the best, Breaker. You’re _still_ pressurized.”


End file.
